Tactical Advantage
by SGAFan
Summary: Missing scene story from Rising. How did John Sheppard get from first sitting down in the pilot's seat of a Jumper to flying one in a dogfight with the Wraith? There must've been some learning curve there, and a sarcastic Canadian doctor to boot...


**_Tactical Advantage_**

**_Missing scene from Rising_**

**_"Think you can fly it?"  
_**

**_"What do you say we find out?"_**

****

John eased himself into the comfortable seat and stared at the Ancient console for a moment. He arched his eyebrows and looked back, responding to McKay's exasperated sigh.

"Is that a yes or a no?" McKay stared blandly at him.

Sheppard pursed his lips and looked back to the console. "That's a maybe."

"Great," McKay grumbled as he glanced around the ship. "You might want to figure it out, Major, it is your only chance to save Sumner and the others."

Sheppard glanced up, catching the reflection of Dr. McKay, who was staring intently at the back of John's head, in the ship's window. Sheppard's gaze narrowed at the acerbic doctor. John slowly turned in his chair and stared hard at McKay. "I can fly just about anything," John said, matter-of-factly. He held McKay's gaze for a moment, pouring as much confidence in his expression as he could.

Rodney stared back. "Prove it."

Sheppard turned around to the console, a mischievous half smile popping up on his face. "How hard can it be?" He asked rhetorically.

"You really want the answer to that?" Rodney settled into the chair next to Sheppard and touched a couple buttons.

"Don't touch anything!" Sheppard exclaimed, waving impatiently at McKay.

Rodney's hand jerked away from the controls as if they were on fire. "What? Nothing happened! I don't have the gene!"

John returned his attention to the console and scanned the controls, before arching an eyebrow and looking at Rodney out of the corner of his eye. "It's gene technology?" He furrowed his brows in annoyance, as McKay let out another exasperated sigh.

"Yes! Isn't it obvious? I couldn't get the damn thing to even power up! Why do you think I brought you down here?"

"Because I'm a **pilot**" John retorted, fixing McKay with an even stare.

McKay shrugged. "Oh, well, yes, there is that too." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair for a moment. Annoyed, Rodney glared at Sheppard. "Are you going to fly this thing, or are we going to sit here all day?"

Sheppard sighed. "Right." Slowly…hesitantly, he touched a panel, smiling as it lit up and hummed to life. He touched another button, jumping slightly as the rear hatch slowly closed. "Okay, that's a start."

Feeling more confident, John glanced down at two small levers positioned just within his reach. He smiled and slowly wrapped his hands around them. "This is promising," he muttered as he gently pulled back on them. He looked out the window, watching as the floor of the bay receded away from him. He hadn't even felt the movement. "Oops."

"Oops?" McKay half stood in mild panic. "Oops is bad! Stop this thing!"

"Alright, okay, hang on a sec…" John carefully moved his hands back to a neutral position and smiled as their ascension halted.

"That's better." McKay sat down and looked at Sheppard questioningly. "I know we weren't moving that fast, but I still didn't feel a thing."

"Me either, " John muttered. He slowly looked over the control panel, his expression pensive.

"Must be equipped with inertial dampeners," Rodney muttered, "protects the passengers from any G forces."

Sheppard nodded in agreement. A small part of him regretted it. There was something about pulling G's that John found exhilarating.

"Major?" Rodney looked at Sheppard expectantly.

"I'm thinking," Sheppard waved absently at McKay.

"Great," Rodney muttered. He met Sheppard's annoyed glance with one of his own. "In case you haven't noticed, we're still 25 feet off the ground."

John grimaced. "I'm working on it!"

"Well, you want to work faster?" McKay retorted, "I mean we're **25 feet** off the ground!" He repeated.

John's gaze narrowed. "Relax, Doctor. Everything's fine."

"No. Things will be fine when you land!" McKay insisted.

Sheppard considered McKay's tense expression. "You don't like heights," his tone of voice was firm and lacking in any questioning.

Fidgeting, Rodney looked away. "Heights, confined spaces, the usual." McKay abruptly stopped squirming and stared evenly at John. "Can you just land this thing? Someone has to talk to Weir…that is if you think you can fly it."

Sheppard once again stared down at his hands, still wrapped around the controls. They felt lose in his hands, like they were designed to have a full range of motion. John thought about that for a moment, pulling on all the flying experience he could. John smiled to himself. Pushing forward and slightly down on the controls, John's grin broadened as he watched the ship slowly descend before gently settling on the floor of the bay.

McKay sprang from his chair. "It's about time," he quickly headed for the back hatch.

John smiled mischievously. Pulling back on the controls, he chuckled as the ship once more ascended.

"Major!" Rodney exclaimed as he doubled back and came to stand behind Sheppard's chair. He glared at the Major's grin. "That's not funny!"

"This is **so** cool." Confident, John pushed the controls evenly forward.

Surprise overtook him, as the ship launched forward. "Whoa!" As John shifted the controls to a neutral position, the ship lurched to a stop. He had to catch himself, as the quick response by the ship momentarily beat the inertial dampeners. He looked back at Rodney, who had fallen against the back of John's chair.

"A little warning next time?" McKay pushed himself up straight. "What happened?"

"We stopped," John's eyes scanned the control panel. He pulled his hands away from the controls and stared at them. He'd barely had a chance to shift the controls to neutral before the ship had quickly stopped. John smiled at the precision handling.

"Thanks for stating the obvious." Rodney walked back to the rear hatch. "You want to land this thing, or am I going to have to jump?"

"Tempting," Sheppard quipped, his smile broadening at McKay's exasperated sigh. "Hang on a second." He gently pushed forward and down on the controls. As the ship settled to the floor, John chuckled and opened the rear hatch.

He looked back, fixing gazes with McKay, who paused at the bottom of the ramp and turned around to face Sheppard.

"I'll talk to Weir," McKay lifted his head and stuck his jaw out proudly, "if you think this will work."

Sheppard stared evenly back and nodded, a confident smile slightly turning up one corner of his mouth. "It'll work."

McKay's gaze narrowed for a moment, before he nodded once and walked away.

John turned back around in his chair and closed the rear hatch. He sighed as he considered how the ship had responded to him. He'd been surprised and caught off guard when the ship had surged forward. It had responded to his quick reactions faster than he'd thought possible. John shook his head in amazement at the level of technology he was facing. He'd spent the better part of his adult life as a pilot, and in that time, in many ways, he'd come to regard his helicopters almost as comrades. Especially in combat, where he relied on his bird and his skills for survival, John had frequently found himself thinking of his copter as his best friend. Looking around, Sheppard allowed himself a sentimental moment. In a hopelessly romantic way, this ship almost was alive. It was like it read his thoughts, responded to his will, and for sure reacted faster than anything he'd ever flown.

John's thoughts drifted back to the Ancient Outpost on Earth, and his experience with the Control Chair.

_Major think about where we are in the solar system…._

He smiled. The Control Chair operated based on a mental component of the user. It stood to reason that the Ancients wouldn't limit that technology to just the Command Chair. So far, the ship's response had been to John's physical actions…at least as far as he could tell. John arched an eyebrow and glanced around the ship, wondering what all it could do, in the hands of an experienced pilot.

Sheppard's amazed thoughts faded as he reminded himself of Sumner and the others. Gently pushing the controls forward, John moved closer to the ship's twin across the bay and stared at it. Sleek and aerodynamic, its grace should've impressed him, but John only felt concern. There was no sign of weapons, no hint of defensive ability. He had no doubt the ship was maneuverable, but so was an Apache, that didn't mean it wasn't armed. Realistically, he had no idea what situation they would be flying into, in any rescue attempt, and John sure as hell wasn't thrilled about doing it unarmed…and he knew Weir would never go for it anyway. She'd made it plain enough that without a tactical advantage, there would be no rescue attempt. The ultimatum grated on him, but begrudgingly, John knew she had a point. In their own alien way, the ships were beautiful, but what tactical advantage could they offer? He looked around at the cockpit. "You have to give me something, baby," he muttered.

John looked back out the window, his eyes widening in shock. "What the hell?" He carefully pushed forward on the controls and came within inches of the ship's counterpart. Hovering the ship in place, John just stared.

There was no reflection of his ship in the other ship's window…and no sign at all that he was even there. John considered his recent thoughts as realization dawned on him. He smiled openly. "I'd say that's a tactical advantage," he shook his head in disbelief. Concentrating, John thought about being visible again, and chuckled as, once more, he could see his reflection in the other ship's window.

John once more stared at the controls. Obviously, the ship did have a mental control component to them, so, why have manual controls? He smiled. While entirely functional, in some ways they were almost a focus point for his thoughts…something tangible that kept him grounded in reality, while at the same time, they served a function, and made flying easier. The ship wasn't entirely mechanical, but it wasn't ethereal either…but some sort of unique hybrid of both.

John eased the controls to the right, nodding in satisfaction as the little ship pivoted in place to a position perpendicular to its previous position. Sheppard concentrated on cloaking the ship, and smiled at the timing as the bay door opened, admitting Weir and McKay. Keeping in stealth mode, John eased forward on the controls and moved the ship towards them. He felt in control and at ease with the little ship. Hovering a few meters from the deck of the bay, John stared out the window at McKay and Weir, who looked around in confusion. Weir said she'd settle for a remote chance of success, and had given him a chance. Find a plan that could work, and she'd authorize the mission. John smiled. With the help of McKay, he'd found one. Sheppard's thoughts and gaze lingered for a moment on the Canadian doctor. Underneath the sarcastic front, Sheppard thought he saw something he might like…if he didn't throttle the smart ass first. John smiled, de-cloaked the ship, and waved.

"_**You said you wanted tactical advantage?"**_

"_**Alright, so, you can fly that thing. It doesn't mean you can pull off a rescue."**_

"_**Doctor. This is why you brought me here."**_

****

_Author's Notes:_

_All bolded, italic lines are directly from the Stargate Atlantis episode "Rising." I don't own them._

_I don't claim ownership to anything Stargate (although I wish I could!). I only use it every once in a while to satisfy my muses. ;)_

_SGAFan_


End file.
